


Wing Warmers

by Samayla



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Illyrian idiots, Knitting, snarky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-27 20:15:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13888344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samayla/pseuds/Samayla
Summary: Some idiot has cold wings, and Nesta is over it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> From a prompt on tumblr.  
> http://samayla.tumblr.com/post/171695375614/thenameisjaida-blog-samayla-urbisie-can

        “What the hell is  _that_?”

         Nesta snatched the fabric away from Cassian before he could pull any of her careful stitches out of shape. “They’re wing warmers, idiot,” she snapped, continuing to knit now with furious energy.

         “Why are you making wing warmers?”

         Nesta’s knitting needles clicked faster. “Because some overgrown bat has  _sensitive wings_  that get cold at night.”

         Cassian barked a laugh. “Yeah, but who’d be caught dead in  _wing warmers_?”

         “Someone who keeps stealing all the blankets every night to cover his wings.” Another row finished, Nesta turned the fabric. “ _Someone_  who tosses and turns all night trying to get his cold wings out of the draft.” She was in the home stretch now, only short rows and finishing stitches left. “ _Someone_  who lets his wings get ice cold and then lays them alongside  _my_  bare back at two in the morning.”

         Nesta stood and shoved the finished garment at Cassian’s face. “Might be a little big for you, considering your  _wingspan_ ,” she hissed as he struggled to disentangle himself from the stretchy fabric, “but I think it’ll serve.”

         “Nes—“

         “You can try it out on the couch tonight.”


	2. Chapter 2

“What the hell is _that_?”

Cassian blinked blearily at the Shadowsinger standing in his doorway. “Morning to you too, gorgeous,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Half past four,” Azriel answered, still staring at Cassian as though he’d grown another head.

“’Half past four,’ my ass,” Cassian griped, stalking toward the kitchen and leaving the door open for Azriel to follow. “You coming?” he called.

Cassian stomped around the kitchen, deliberately ignoring Azriel while he made coffee and dug some stale rolls out of the breadbox. Finally, he turned back to the table with two steaming mugs of _very_ strong coffee, only to see Azriel was _still_ staring at him.

“What the hell’s your problem, Az?” he demanded.

“What are you wearing?”

Cassian froze halfway into his seat, then sat down hastily. “Wing warmers,” he said coolly. He stretched his wings with exaggerated languor and took a sip of his coffee.

“Wing—but why are you wearing—“

Cassian cut him off with an intense stare. “ _Nes_ made them for me. Aren’t they great?”

Azriel wisely chose to agree, as Nesta came stumbling into the kitchen just then. “Thought I smelled coffee.” She picked up the second cup. “What are you doing here this early, Azriel?” she asked, inhaling the steam.

Azriel spoke up before Cassian had the chance. “Cass was just showing off those wing warmers you made for him. Nice work!”

Nesta blinked. “You really like them?”

“I think they were a really great idea,” Azriel confirmed, pasting a brilliant smile on his face to mask the pain of Cassian’s kick beneath the table.

Nesta smiled to herself as she sipped her cup of coffee. “Thanks.”


	3. Chapter 3

“What the hell is _that_?”

Azriel stared in horror at the fabric pooled in the box. “Wing warmers,” he whispered.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Mor’s mouth. “Lucky you, Az...”

Cassian snatched the garment out of the box and shook it out to its full size. “Hey! How come Nes made yours so much bigger?”

Mor bit her lip, but the look in her eyes and her flaring nostrils were indication enough of the laughter threatening to burst forth. “I didn’t know Nesta could knit,” she choked out.

“She’s been practicing,” Cassian said absently as he inspected the fabric. “And she didn’t even drop any stitches in yours... Mine is full of little snags!” Cassian huffed and crammed the fabric back into the box it had come in. “I’m going to have to talk to her,” he declared.

“Cass—“

 “You can keep yours, Az,” Cassian assured him. “They’re great—best night’s sleep you’ve had in your life. No. _You_ are one thing, but she can’t just be making wing warmers all willy-nilly!”

Mor snorted and turned away, her shoulders shaking with silent giggles.

“Some help you are,” Azriel muttered as Cassian stalked away, still grumbling to himself about wing warmers and appropriate gifts for male friends.

Mor overcame her giggles after a moment and asked, “How hard do you think it’d be to get Nesta to make a set of wing warmers for Rhys?”

“After Cassian has his ‘talk’ with her? All we’ll have to do is point out that he has wings.”

 


End file.
